Of Course
by ri.sparrow.black
Summary: For as long as Victoire can remember, her life, everything she was and did, revolved around one blue haired boy.


Victoire's earliest memory was of a boy with blue hair, one who had been a glorious and sophisticated year older than her. That made him all of 5. In fact, looking back at her life, pretty much every single one of her most significant memories had Teddy in them, in one form or another.

The first birthday she remembered. He held her hand as she blew out the candles, as the fire still frightened her a bit.

Dom's birth. It was the first pregnancy she had been around, and the first one he remembered. They had been excited out of their minds, and had driven everyone they knew simply crazy with their antics.

James' birth. He had been terrified that Harry wouldn't love him anymore. That he'd be replaced. She had spent that entire summer and fall with him, until he believed her when she said no one could ever _not_ love Teddy.

The first time she rode a real broom. He had been the one to teach her. Even though he was only a year older, he'd grown up with Harry and Ginny, and had been flying for years. They had snuck out of the Potter mansion to fly by moonlight when she was 7. She suspected now that the Potters had known, and kept watch over them, letting them enjoy the thrill and sense of adventure and absolute freedom. She never asked and they never said, choosing to preserve the memory as was.

Her first crush. She'd been eight, and spent an entire two months blushing and stuttering around her best friend, before the Weasley, Delacour, French bullheadedness beat it down.

The time she fell out of the tree and broke her ankle. He had supported her, half-carried her in fact, back to the house, refusing to leave her behind to go get someone. _Together_, he had said.

The first time her heart broke, when she had to wave goodbye to him, knowing that it would be another 4 months before she saw him again. She cried all night, and didn't leave the house for two weeks.

Her first kiss. She was ten, he was eleven, and Uncle George's mistletoe had deemed them old enough to have to kiss on the mouth in order to escape. Her father had been furious with his brother.

Her Sorting. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, even as she lowered the hat onto her head. _Gryffindor. _Please_ Gryffindor_, she had thought at the hat, refusing to entertain the though that she'd be in any other House, separate from him for more years. She had been Sorted into Gryffindor, and he had led the applause, standing up on the bench and whistling, overjoyed.

Her first exams. He had helped her study, talked her though the material, out of her panic attacks and hysteria, soothing and calm.

Her first trip to Hogsmeade. She was only twelve, but he had leant her the Cloak Uncle Harry had given him, and they had discovered the joys of Hogsmeade together.

Making the Quidditch team. They had tried out together, and were overjoyed when they were chosen as the team Beaters. The captain had been impressed with them individually, but had been nearly speechless when they flew together. They had always had the uncanny ability of knowing exactly what the other would do, when they would do it, and where they would be, almost telepathic. Uncle George had always said they had identical souls, and maybe that explained it. He would know.

Her first boyfriend. The bastard had cheated on her, and though she had already broken his nose, Teddy still tracked him down, and broke it again and made sure it healed crooked, a permanent reminder. He stayed up with her, holding her as she cried, never once saying _I told you so_, though he had from the very beginning. _Why are you going out with him Tory, he's not good enough for you. You're going to get hurt_.

Her first dance. They had gone together, just as friends, because both had just broken up with their significant other, and were feeling too tender to try and find a date. It had all worked out perfectly.

The first and only boy she ever slept with. They'd always done it, staying up, talking quietly, until they fell asleep curled around each other, to the point where his roommates only commented when she wasn't there. Which was more and more as they grew older, and he began to date. His girlfriends always, _always_ hated her, and did their best to drive the two of them apart, only to scream and cry and break up with him as they failed.

Falling in love. It hadn't been grand, or dramatic. It wasn't even falling in love exactly, more_ realizing _that she was already there, and had been for a while. They had been sitting in the common room, studying for their exams, and she had looked up, and could only think, _Of course_.


End file.
